


Cruise

by Leyenn



Category: Xena: Warrior Princess
Genre: F/F, POV Outsider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-15
Updated: 2009-11-15
Packaged: 2017-10-02 23:37:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leyenn/pseuds/Leyenn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Xena and Gabrielle take a holiday. Unfortunately getting there is almost a battle in itself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cruise

**Author's Note:**

> Set just post-_One Against An Army_.

Predictably, she found the little blonde sidekick hanging over the caulked side of the ship, puking enthusiastically into midair.

"Is this a private competition, or can anyone play?"

The girl - Gabrielle, her name was Gabrielle, Xena had been very insistent - gave her a look that quite clearly said to get bent, and not to dawdle about it.

"Fine, whatever. I'll leave you to enjoy the scenery." That black look was really quite impressive. You could tell this kid was Xena's. "Get any on my deck and you'll be scrubbing it up, remember."

"Not if Xena has anything to say about it," was the reply muttered into the wind.

She kept quiet and stalked back along the rise of the deck toward the tiller, inviting a subtly questioning look of amusement from the dark warrior steering her ship. Had anyone else come up to her on her twelfth tankard at Selba's alehouse and demanded the use of her ship - immediately, under the proviso that she touched neither tiller nor oar until she'd been sober for at least a day and a night - she would probably have slung the half-finished tankard right over their head. Lucky for her that she'd noticed the chakram in time.

"What are you doing bringing her along, Xena? That girl has about the worst sea legs I've ever seen."

Xena's lip quirked with a glance down the deck. "I don't think they're that bad."

"You're a dirty old woman," she accused. "What's so important about this island of yours that she has to lose her mother's milk over it, anyway?"

"Gabrielle needed a holiday." It was surprising to see pain so obvious in that face, but she wasn't blind enough even with the hangover not to realise why. It was a small ship: she'd seen the bruising and the way the girl moved stiffly when she walked. She'd caught the private tenderness in Xena's care when she changed the poultice, and the way the g- _Gabrielle, Gabrielle_ \- had eased under her touch without even knowing.

"Looks to me like she could use a good iron stomach a whole lot more. You did show her that," she poked at her forearm in gesture, "the thing you do?"

"I've shown her all the things I do."

She raised an eyebrow, wobbly in the face of her pounding head, but she should have known it wouldn't compare. Xena returned the expression with a kind of lazy arrogance and swung the tiller wheel further around. The island about to appear through the morning's mist was still distant - they were rowing with the most pitiful winds this week and if she'd had a choice they'd still be in port on her thirteenth ale, but this was Xena. Sailors wishing to drink ale again in their lifetime didn't argue with Xena.

"I can take over." She nodded at the wheel. Xena regarded her calmly. "I've sailed oceans with more ale in my blood than this. She could probably use a refresher on that-" she tapped her wrist again. A look in the girl's direction said she was right; for the fifth time since they'd upped anchor she'd moved to another patch of clean air, close enough that her heaving stomach was clearly audible from here. "Before she paints my deck bile green."

Xena released the tiller and swung down from the steering platform with the animal grace she'd always admired; especially when her head still made walking straight a chore. Her voice carried on the light winds as she reached the rail.

"Gabrielle?"

"I'm good." She saw the girl retch once and try to swallow. "I'm great." Swallowing not being the answer, as it never was, she shrugged with a kind of tired reluctance and stretched over the side again. At least she was aiming well. "Couldn't be better."

Xena grabbed her hand from the rail, ignoring weak protests that had something to do with squid, and jabbed two fingers between the tendons of her wrist.

"Ow!"

The other strong hand came to rest at the back of her neck. Unsurprisingly she didn't move. This one was smart, she'd give her that. "Stay quiet and keep your head over the side for a while. It-"

"-might take a minute to set in, I remember." Gabrielle closed her eyes. "The water has to move like that, I suppose?"

"It comes in handy on a ship," was the noncommittal response. The hand started careful circles on the girl's back.

"I feel sick just looking at it."

"You feel sick looking at blue paint." Was that actual laughter in Xena's voice? Maybe she'd had more ale than she remembered.

This girl who could apparently call up Xena's smile at will didn't seem particularly taken with it on this fine misty morning. "Not helping here, Xena."

"All right." Xena's hand moved lower. Rather too low for a decent warrior princess to be moving, in fact. Not that Xena had ever been decent, at least as long as she could remember. "I guess you can stand up now."

"Hm." The girl was looking away as luck would have it, so she didn't have to waste the effort of jealousy at whatever expression went with that tone. "I don't know... I'm starting to like the view after all."

"Really." Yes, even when seeing the wheel in front of her was a chore, she could definitely make out the sound of laughter in that low voice - and its equal being muttered into the winds.

"Where is this place I'm losing my stomach lining for, anyway? Or are you gonna make me guess?"

She lost sight of Xena's hands at around that point... just as well, saved trying to ignore them when she knew full well where they were aimed. "You've heard of it."

"That's a lot of help." Actually it appeared to be a whole lot of help, the way the girl was squirming enjoyably.

Xena had eyes in the back of her head, she remembered, when the warrior turned on her watching with a light glare and extricated a hand from - well, wherever it had been. Speaking to the girl as if they were all alone and no one was really bothering to steer their ship and listen in. "Oh, so you've heard of a lot of islands?"

Gabrielle didn't seem to notice any distraction. She wouldn't notice distraction either if Xena were standing that damned close to her. "Xena. I'm a bard. It's what bards do."

"What, learn about places their parents wouldn't approve of?" Ah, the sweet scent of catching them young - that was the Xena she knew. Those poor parents had probably never stood a chance.

Definitely hadn't, more to the point, judging from the yelp of excitement squeaking out before Xena could put a hand somewhere else indecent. "We're going... _there_?"

"Mm-hmm."

Such a grin she'd not seen in a long time, the way that girl looked at Xena. "I'm hungry."

"Come below and I'll find something better for you than squid to take your mind off it."

Wishing quite fervently to keep her eyes intact to see land again, she politely looked a different way when Gabrielle shoved her warrior back to the stairwell, with the feral grin of a Xena-in-waiting that was almost surprising. _Well, well, hail the conquering hero._

She started to consider if Xena knew what she might be getting herself into; and then, of course, realised that being even half drunk didn't excuse that kind of blatant stupidity. There was only one reason a Warrior Princess rousted a poor drunken captain out of her nice warm alehouse to sail her and a little blonde to Sappho's place, and it wasn't for the scenery. She wondered if the _girl_ knew what she was getting herself into.

Then she remembered, over the throbbing headache as the wind started to whistle at her from behind, that grin. Maybe the rumors were even true after all and Xena had found the right one at last?

The wind fairly dived into her sail, striking her a nice blow on the wrist as the tiller wheel snapped sideways, and the ship began to rock in a well-known rhythm, rather plainly out of sync with the waves. Well, someone up there was obviously interested in those two hitting landfall...

  


*

  



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